clearly that I had lost;
But my heart still hoped, till she gently sighed,
"You forget what _American Beauties_ cost."

T.G.P.
_Cornell Era_.

~A Kiss.~

"A kiss it is a poeme faire."--_Old Song._

A kiss is not like the poems at all
Which I drop through the editor's office door;
For I like it as well "returned with thanks,"
As "accepted, with a request for more."

L.
_Wesleyan Literary Monthly_.

~The Modern Book.~

Extremely small or of giant size,
Bound in vellum or boards antique,
The pages of paper made by hand
With deckle edge and shape unique;
Margins four inches wide, at least,
And straggling o'er the page a line
Or two (no more), of beautiful print
In type advertised as "our own design."
You pay a price exorbitant
This cherished morsel to procure;
You get a gem of the bookman's art
And five cents' worth of literature.

M.R.
_Vassar Miscellany_.

~His Father Took Him Home.~

"I was always so poor in Greek,"
_He played the guitar_,
"A 'dec' I never could speak,"
_He won every race_,
"My Latin I have to 'horse,'"
_In football a star_,
"The German is 'cribbed' perforce."
_He played second base._

S.J.R.
_Madisonensis_.

~Beautiful Sprig.~

Sprig, sweet Sprig, is cobig;
For I feel it id the air,
See, the groud is gedtly thawig,
Bud ad slush are everywhere.

Dow I doff by widter fladdels,
Ad I dod by subber close;
Thed for weeks ad weeks together
Vaidly try to blow by dose.

J. P. WELSH.
_Harvard Lampoon_.

III. COLLEGE AND CAMPUS

~The Way of It.~

A little learning, scattered o'er
A frolic of four years or more.
Then--Presto, change!--and you create
The sober college graduate!

_Yale Record_.

~Comfort.~

With pipe and book, an old armchair,
A glowing hearth, what need I care
For empty honors, wealth or fame?
Grant me but this: an honest name,
A cup of ale, a coat to wear,
And then, while smoke wreaths rift the air,
The banquet of the gods I share,
Content to sit before the flame
With pipe and book.

Above the city's noisy glare,
Yet sweet, tho' humble, is my fare;
For changing not from praise to blame,
These faithful friends are still the same--
No earthly comforts can compare
With pipe and book.

CHARLES E. MERRILL, JR.
_Yale Courant_.

~O Hero.~

Out into the mud and the wet he goes,
My hero, tall and strong;
Under his jersey the